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He did. He already really did.
She looked up at him, looking right into his face, into his eyes to check and nodded her agreement, pursing her lips to lick them and bite the bottom lip. As she leaned forward to get his ice cream, scooping it from the tub, her baggy T-shirt gaped open. And Phantom was rewarded with a full view straight down her top.
At some cute little bralette thing she was wearing underneath. She wasn’t curvy, she was lithe, flyaway. She straightened up, reaching for a cardboard cup, placing the large scoop inside. He continued to shamelessly stare. He wanted a teaser taste of her. Her tits in his mouth. He wanted to tear that bralette off her like unwrapping a candy.
“And honeycomb sprinkles on top...” She dipped the scoop into the container and sprinkled little chocolate covered honeycomb nuggets on top. She stuck a little wooden spoon in the giant scoop. He almost groaned out loud with desire. For her, for the fucking ice cream. For everything the moment promised.
She handed him the cup. He paused before taking his ice cream cup. She had some ice cream smeared on the knuckle of her index finger from when she’d scooped it up out of the tub for him. He saw it and wanted to put her finger in his mouth and suck deep.
His hand came out and clasped the ice cream cup, his fingers skimming hers. He took it without looking at it. His eyes were fixed on her now. He was looking at the smear on her hand. She saw him looking.
She brought her finger to her mouth. His gaze followed. She latched onto her knuckle with her lips, keeping eye contact with him, and sucked.
Maybe his little Sugar Plum Fairy wasn’t so innocent after all. He felt his cock bulge in his jeans and his balls tighten with lust. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anything before. His chest felt crushed under the weight of how much he fucking wanted her.
He dragged the little spoon through the mountain of goodness he held in the cup, and his gaze flicked back to her. He opened his mouth and placed the spoon on his tongue, closing his lips around it.
His eyes closed. For a second, or more. An exchange of breath from his lungs, out through his throat, with the tiniest of imperceptible sounds.
Then snapped open. And straight to her.
It tasted good. Too good.
She smiled at him, proud, smug. Knowing how much pleasure he was in. Enjoying that she’d put him there. Cheeky Sugar Plum Fairy.
Of course he stood there and took an immediate second mouthful. And a third.
He felt the cool sweetness slide down his throat, easing it. He purred now. The sugar rush was intense. He didn’t remember tasting… anything. He didn’t remember finding pleasure in food. Finding pleasure in life. He found pleasure only in death. And yet, here he was, his tongue enjoying the taste. Luxuriating in the creamy sweetness, his brain on fire with pleasure. He almost felt his knees knocking together. He staggered back and sunk into a seat behind him.
“Are you okay?”
He blinked and raised his eyes to her, feeling more alive than he had in years. Here he was, eating ice cream, with her standing in front of him, inches from him, looking at him. Seeing him.
“Um... you have some on your lip there.” She indicated on her own face, but bit her lips, standing close in front of him, swaying her hips from side to side. Was she aware of how much of a cock tease she was right now?
He felt half drunk on pleasure. Wipe it off me, he thought. He spooned the last, giant mouthful into his mouth, leaving the cup empty. Savoring it. Savoring the feeling of bravado he felt coursing through his blood. Maybe it was just sugar, or adrenaline, or testosterone, or a heady mix of all three. But he wasn’t going to waste this ration.
He tilted his chin back, to give her access.
“Hmm,” he grunted out.
A clear invitation. More of an indication. More of an instruction. He made eye contact, gripping her with his gaze. Come to me, he said, in his head. He tilted his head more, a nod, beckoning her toward him. He’d not held someone’s gaze like this for a while. He’d not wanted to communicate so much before in his life. He felt like he was carrying a flickering candle in a dark cave. It was at risk of going out unless he moved painfully slowly. Unless he held his breath and prayed. He opened his mouth still gazing at Sophie, a gentle parting of his lips. The message was clear.
She hummed, staring at him. What was she thinking, he wondered. He would give anything to know what was running through her mind now. Behind those amber eyes of hers. It was clearly something, they were getting hazy, lazy, droopy. She stood in front of him still. His gaze dropped from her eyes to what was right in front of his eye line. Her body.
She waited a moment, thinking, clearly debating with herself. Her eyebrow quirked up. Would she reject him? Tell him to leave, or pass him a napkin? He hoped and prayed not, but he felt it was almost inevitable. He would only have this, this was the closest he’d get to her, the most interaction he’d have. He would savor this moment, where she almost might have... and he would be happy with that, it was already more than he could have hoped for.
Or would she bend down, put her lips to his, and lick off the ice cream with her hot tongue? If she did that would he be able to control himself? No, he would not. He would probably howl like a banshee and come in his jeans.
She moved then. She reached her hand forward and brushed his lip with her thumb. Her fingers clasped the side of his stubbly face. He gasped and closed his eyes with the sudden contact with another person. With her hand. Her warm hand. Real, alive, holding his skin with tenderness.
Her thumb, positioned just over his lip, hovering for a moment. For eternity. Then, her thumb, wiping the smear off. And lingering. Her smooth wrist brushed his stubbled chin. He breathed in a deep breath of her perfume that clung subtly to her wrist. Sweetness, something playful and fragrant and fresh. Her thumb wiped again, a longer wipe, that covered the whole of his top lip. Her fingers then took his cheek, holding lightly, then stroking. Once, then again. Then a third time, using her nails through his stubble this time. He closed his eyes in pleasure and purred. He could die right now and this would be heaven. This would be all he would need for an eternity.
Her hands were soft, small, and warm. He wanted to see them wrapped around his cock.
She withdrew her hand now. His eyes opened, watching her. She raised her thumb to her own lips. Oh fucking hell. The pit in his stomach opened up and bottomed out. He was no longer soaring in the sky, he was plummeting to earth. And fucking loving the drop.
He licked his lips in anticipation. She put her thumb in between her own lips, the one that had touched him merely moments ago. She took her thumb into her mouth and sucked, like it was a lollipop.
